The Sinister Pride Of Perfection
by ChocolateCarnival
Summary: With a Zanpactō spirit that has become restless since the first Sakura trees blossomed in Seireitei, Ichigo is forced to rely upon the God of Sword's help to reconnect the bond between him and Shiro Zangetsu. Only, it seems that even Nimaiya does not understand what's going on. As a result, a seemingly fated mistake is about to thrust Ichigo into a whole new world of instinct.Yaoi
1. The Sinister Pride Of Perfection Part 1

Hello All My Honeys, I apologize that this one's a bit late but I've been getting a little busy with the year again. Not that it matters, I suppose since I'm truly excited about this story. It's been a while since I've truly challenged myself and I've decided to work with something entirely new. Yes, my honeys, I'm going to working with **Tentacles **in this one so please be warned…this **story will be controversial and based around dark eroticism.**

I feel that it's time for me to return to Bleach and my favourite pairing of all time, I miss Shiro and Ichigo and it's also time for me to start on Soul Ignition soon too. But first, I want to explore this one first, it's a project I'd like to complete when I can and as soon as I can. So please, heed the warnings listed below:

**The Sinister Pride Of Perfection Contains: M/M Lemons, Tentacles, Alpha & Beta Dynamics, Zanpactō Materialization, Dominant! Shiro Zangetsu, Submissive! Ichigo, Violence, Rough Sex, Spoilers for the newer chapters in Bleach, Canon Divergence Setting, Angst, Two-Shot, Dark Themes and Dark Eroticism. **

The Set Pairing is: **Shiro Zangetsu (**白 斬月**) x Kurosaki Ichigo (**黒崎 一護**)**

Just a side note, please keep the controversial themes in mind…if any of the warnings have put you off…please don't read any further. I will not be hold responsible any further than this, the warnings are there for a reason.

Other than that, please enjoy:

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><p><span><strong>The Sinister Pride Of Perfection:<strong>

本能 - _Ho'nō_. Instinct. 形 - _Katachi_. Form. 力 - _Chikara_. Power. 強さ - _Tsuyosa_. Strength. **魂** - _**Tamashii**_. **Soul**. The five fundamental forms of life that made up the essence of all existence. Creating a strict hierarchy that constantly influenced the ebb and flow of battle in the Reiou's Three Kingdoms, it unconsciously fuelled a desperate need that _all_ beings had been born with. To prove superiority and dominance over those weaker than themselves, a strict sense of seeking combat had been deeply ingrained on the Hollows and Arrancar of Hueco Mundo more than those living in the Human World and Soul Society alike. Categorized by two forms of Ho'nō within that set system; the dominants (or Alphas as they were known), were inclined to seek those weaker than themselves to rule over rightly. And the rarer Submissives (Betas), yielded themselves naturally to the dominants that they deemed worthy of protecting them in the most vulnerable time of a Hollow's life cycle…when bearing young. Possessing an uncanny soul that was more resilient than even the strongest of Alphas during the peak of a Beta's maturing powers, they were often needlessly killed off because of the large threat their intensely protective nature posed. Those with the strength to dominate were unnecessarily intimidated by souls stronger than themselves, after all.

Thusly, when the scent of a maturing Beta was picked up by an Alpha unworthy of their strength; the dominants unconsciously sought to destroy that which was not rightfully theirs dictated by fate. Betas were a special breed of Hollow that were born with only one match and _one_ being that they would yield themselves to instinctively. And unless that 'mate' was found before their first heat cycle was initiated at the age of twenty, instinct would ensure that their natural strength grow weaker and weaker until they were forced into submission by a lesser being or simply killed off for the alluring scent that their soul exuded. Natural Submissives were even harder to find in this day and age, though. To be considered an exceedingly powerful Beta was practically unheard of since the history and practices of Hollows had vanished into nothing several thousand years before. For Kurosaki Ichigo however, a natural Beta - only his strongest Zanpactō spirit had an inkling of what was awaiting him _if_ he did not awaken his sleeping powers soon. Sadly though, the orange haired Shinigami was captive to too much regret, pain and sorrow since the Thousand Year Blood War had drawn to a bitter close two year ago. Even though Soul Society had been victorious after countless battles and mournful losses, Shiro Zangetsu's voice was often drowned out by the sound of Ichigo's despair _regardless_ of the awakening instinct that was maturing his powers at an alarming rate.

Erupting in large torrents from the depths of a blade darker than midnight, vivid sparks of oppressive black reiatsu was shocking exploring fingertips harshly as Ichigo hissed in pain at the deadly flood of power that burst forth from his Zanpactō and encompassed the walls of a regal Throne Room with an invisible push. Sending intense waves rocking through the Palace of Duality, the Sixth Royal Guard of the Reiōkyū instinctively narrowed intense chocolate brown eyes behind pale eyelids as elegant fingertips reluctantly withdrew from the large blade balanced in his lap with perfect Jinzen (1*). An intense lash of pain was also cresting powerfully against the edges of a strained soul, the feeling of rejection _so_ intense that the bewildered twenty-year-old was forced to tip his head forward in despair so that vibrantly coloured locks could artfully conceal his sorrowful gaze from sight. Ichigo couldn't understand what was wrong with Zangetsu anymore. Ever since the sakura trees had blossomed in Seireitei a week before, his soul companion had become increasingly unresponsive regardless of the orangette being drawn deeper into an emotional instability he'd rather not face by himself. Without Shiro Zangetsu's soothing presence by his side like he had been since they had been reforged, it was increasingly difficult for the newly instated Dexyuaru-Shin (2*) to_ not_ snap under the pressure he was forced to endure daily.

Ichigo couldn't help it, damn it! The moment that the Quincy Emperor had fallen in battle several years ago, the orange haired Substitute Shinigami had been told that he would no longer be permitted to return to his human body. The Reiou had decided he would remain a Shinigami for the rest of eternity simply because his power was too immense to contain. His soul was too strong to bind, his reiatsu too refined to seal and his existence so oppressive that it could easily alter, change and crush weaker souls beneath its touch without intending to. So, Kurosaki Ichigo had been given one proposition… Join the Royal Guard instead and help rebuild Soul Society. As the Deity of Duality, the orange haired teen was the first being whose soul was perfectly balanced between two spheres of influence. 生 - Sei, Life and 死 - Shi, Death. His mother's Quincy inheritance and the strong spiritual pressure Isshin had gifted him at birth, were linked to the sphere of 'life'. Whilst his father's powerful noble Shinigami lineage and the deadly Hollow powers passed over from Masaki's soul into his, were linked irrevocably to 'death'. Skilfully intertwined to make up the entire essence of his power, the Sixth Royal Guard was considered a haunting miasma of Human - Quincy and Shinigami - Hollow…four beings that were on the opposite sides of the spectrum and fate would normally never allow to mix.

Alas, with a Hollow-Tainted-Quincy for a mother and a Partial-Human-Shinigami for a sire; a twist in fate had created just enough leeway to bear a soul that stood on the same plane of existence as the ancient barrier that separated the Three Worlds, the Dangai, did. At the insistence of the High Priest, the orange haired Shinigami was likened to a pillar that could strengthen the flow between life and death whenever the Dangai itself was in danger of collapsing. However, being referred to as a 'fail-safe' was _not_ something that Ichigo was particularly fond of. An irritated 'che' was spilling boldly from parted petal pink lips, a sweaty palm returning thoughtfully to Zangetsu's blade as the orange haired twenty-year-old tried _very_ hard to steady the tremor that was shaking his limbs. _Now was not the time to lose control_, he thought to himself harshly. Sharp brown eyes were scanning the recesses of a private throne room around him as a large traditional Japanese mansion glittered brightly in the early morning sunlight. Seated regally atop a raised dais with one leg folded comfortably beneath him, a forearm came to rest contemplatively on a propped up knee as a long black and gold kiseru (3*) rested elegantly between long fingertips. A black waraji clad foot was also pressing absently against an intricate silk blanket, the pleated folds of a sensual hakama accentuating long limbs as the orange haired Shinigami reclined his back against several exotically colourful pillows.

An expert flick of his wrist accidentally pinned the larger of his dual Zangetsus through the silky fabric of a lengthy white haori that occupied several meters of the floor around him. Creating a haunting image that was highlighted by white and turquoise folds splaying in sensual silk waves around a tall, lithe, frame; a haze of silvery smoke soon flowed spellbindingly from lush petal pink lips. The messy length of orange hair, having settled into the scruffy style he had adopted before defeating Aizen, skittered playfully across pale cheeks as chocolate brown eyes glanced away wearily at the far too intense gaze that his morning guest possessed. The Tōshin of the Reiōkyū was scanning the younger being's form up and down without shame, a tray of traditional green tea and snacks the servants had provided staying untouched between them as the dark skinned Shinigami's usual playful demeanour melted away in lieu of intense curiosity. Witnessing the usual dynamic that was present between Ichigo and Zangetsu first hand, was enough to leave Ōetsu Nimaiya more than a little perplexed when one of the two of the most beautiful and astounding Zanpactō ever forged in his palace, remained unresponsive and unsettled by his Master's touch. Even whilst the Quincy half of the orangette's dual Zanpactō showed no inclination of rejection or bouts of defiance.

The love and pride that bound the orangette to his power was the strongest Nimaiya had come across in several centuries, he remembered. Enough to lull even _his_ Asuachi into bowing down respectfully at a mere glimpse of the soul bind that existed between Zangetsu and his Aruji. But now, the largest and most powerful portion of the orangette's power seemed to be restless with something unknown that was eating away at both the Zanpactō and his Master's soul. _Definitely_ a perplexing problem for him to mull over. Raising calloused fingers to his lips in a motion for silence, the older being quickly stalled the array of questions that he could see flickering behind turmoiled brown eyes as Kurosaki Ichigo curled a desperate grip around the elongated hilt of his sword. Elegant black fingerless tekkō-gloves, a gift from the Kuchiki family, were tensing around slim wrists as a bottom lip was caught valiantly between harshly biting teeth. The orangette shifting restlessly on a humble throne made of soft pillows and regal silk fabrics as a hiss of strain coloured the air and a rush of frustrated tears seared the backs of pale eyelids. A visible curl of reiatsu was snaking like a binding chain up the teen's right arm, solidifying with black chain links when Ichigo tried to draw away his hand and was left shivering instead with a strange sense of overwhelming heat and overpowering anxiety that curled painfully through the pit of his stomach.

'Ōetsu-san…I—.'

'Chan-Ichi, yo?' The Tōshin interrupted suddenly, startling the younger Shinigami from his swirling thoughts as the God of Sword smirked dangerously and waved his fingertips through the air in an exaggerated gesture for peace. 'There's nothing wrong with Zangetsu over there. His blade is tempered perfectly with your soul, his edge sharpened expertly with your reiatsu and his voice as clear to me as it had always been. There is only one of two reasons why a Zanpactō would show unusual behaviour like this. The first is because you're losing your power. Which I find unlikely since you're emitting so much reiatsu, you could force a Gotei-13 Taichō to his knees. Or the second, your Zanpactō is trying to protect you from somethin' and your ears have become too stopped with emotion to hear him.' A deadly smirk of amusement was curling across dark lips, sharp eyes sweeping across the lavish throne room for several seconds before the older Shinigami wagged his finger at the teen in reprimand and forced himself to his feet. Deciding to indulge himself in a cup of green tea, an irritable hiss echoed through air as steam fogged up green sunglasses and a forefinger and thumb balanced a clay rim between long fingers. 'After _all_ that time that I spent teachin' ya about lovin' yer Zanpactō and understanding yer roots…it seems that we're back to square one Chan-Ichi.' A playful baritone noted with mock sorrow, the older being shaking his head with rhythmic amusement.

'Yare, yare! Trouble,_ trouble_…_you_ cause a lot of it, Ichi-kun. Lucky for you, the number one Zanpactō Master has a solution for you. Now if I can only find Mera-chan…I could have _sworn_ I brought her with me.' Trying to process the message that Nimaiya was imparting to him whilst pacing from side to side and muttering to himself in a stream of senseless words, Ichigo curled his fingertips tighter around Zangetsu's hilt as a swathe of pitch black silk suddenly sealed away the restless blade and he draped it across his back from a segmented sash. Strange though that the length of chain that wound up his right arm did not let go, even when he stood and turned his attention to the smaller blade that was suspended from a thick golden sash and several intricate golden chains wound around the outside of a white and turquoise haori. Something wasn't right, though. Zangetsu Ossan was too quiet as well, almost as if he too was—. Crying out in startled surprise when a yawning gate suddenly opened into a vast abyss beneath his feet, Ichigo barely had enough time to widen his eyes as a flicker of well executed shunpo closed the distance that separated him and the Tōshin and a heavy palm came to rest against the centre of his chest. In the corner of his eye, Ichigo paled in surprise as a spiky haired girl materializing into existence right behind him and held out her palms as if waiting for him to lose his balance.

'The only way to restore yer bond is te return to yer roots, Chan-Ichi. Shiro Zangetsu is called 'Shiro' for a reason. When you find the answer te that, Mera-chan and I will come fetch ya. So, have some fun ne? _Remember_ what it's like to be a true Shinigami. I'm sure both of you will enjoy some playtime away from this stifling palace!' Before Ichigo could gather his wits and execute his own impressive display of shunpo, a powerful dual binding kido wound restrictively around his waist as his consciousness blacked out for several seconds and he lost control over the reishi particles that swirled protectively beneath his feet. A startling amount of gravity was pulling him down into the darkness not long after that, a distant memory of something similar happening to him before surfacing in his mind as an intense heaviness pressed down on his chest and it became increasingly difficult to discern and feel out the separated world surrounding him. No matter _how_ much he fought against his bonds though, they only seemed to strengthen around him with every lash of his reiatsu until the gap of light above vanished from sight and chocolate brown eyes could no longer discern anything but pitch black darkness. His stomach was violently rebelling the swift and deadly descent his body was taking, making him glad he had not eaten anything that morning as time seemed to flow into an indiscernible stretch and a cry of ragging anger echoed into the vast distances.

'Bastard, Nimaiya! I'll get you for that!' A cracking tenor vowed promisingly, blunt fingernails digging painfully into pale palms as several heaving breaths lodged painfully in the orangette's chest and an intense flood of detachment enveloped a wavering consciousness and forced his mind into a different sphere of reality. Everything seemed to fade away from around him, his heartrate slowing considerably as a familiar sound tried to reach out to him from what seemed like a void of stillness inside his soul. Reverberating powerfully through every cell in his body, it echoed hauntingly through silenced thoughts with such crushing force and simultaneous gentleness that it was as if Ichigo was being embraced and torn apart from within at the same time. He could only liken the sensations to thunder crashing in the distance and lighting falling obediently into the palms of his hands, a heady mixture of invigorating power and stifling pain that forced several pained cries from his lips as it built a sense of dread to weigh down his body. Pure instinct was skittering near painfully across flawlessly tanned skin, chocolate brown eyes eventually snapping open as the pressure in the air changed abruptly and a cool breeze swirled invitingly around his form. Trails of silver reiatsu was disintegrating in the sky, his bonds slowly loosening from his body as his Quincy inheritance absorbed the reishi and unconsciously fuelled the naturally defensive Blut that was flowing through his veins.

A vast dome of midnight was spread hauntingly above him, animalistic cries echoing warningly into the night as black waraji found just enough leeway to descend upright in silvery sands and dark eyes had a chance to take in the desolate planes of Hueco Mundo spreading towards an even bleaker horizon. The orange haired twenty-year-old couldn't quite comprehend why he had ended up here when he was so sure he would be dispelled to the Human World like last time. It simply didn't make sense to him, this desolate and removed world of isolation was _definitely_ worse for wear since the Kaiser and his troops had marched through here. They had left nothing but destruction and despair in their wake, several intense fires of blue reishi still burning brightly against the dark backdrop as the rich makeup of the dimension fed a two-year-old blaze that never seemed to burn out. It was simply frightening to think how close all Three Worlds had come to collapsing if he hadn't been in time back then, even the Zero Division had fallen and had to be resurrected by the Soul King after the battle. There was simply too much death and loss tainting his previous childish naivety, he thought mournfully. Ichigo truly didn't want to remember anymore, not when he was sure to get lost in the darkness of his own soul and the despair that encompassed his heart.

Raising a lit gold and black kiseru to petal pink lips, the elegant pipe had thankfully survived the fall without being extinguished or crushed as the orangette drew a deep breath of sweet smoke into his lungs and relaxed minutely when it seemed to calm the restless rustle of instinct that twisted through his stomach and the unusual heat of anticipation that was thrumming powerfully against his heart. There was no outward indication that he was truly paying attention to his surroundings though, until a swift movement unsheathed a large pitch black blade from his back. Using an impressive display of ambidextrous skill, the deadly edge of Zangetsu was sailing through the air behind him in an expert angle as it cut down a considerably large reiatsu that materialized into existence right behind him. A deadly smirk was curling across hauntingly beautiful features with dark satisfaction, the sound of a tinkling chain caressing strained senses as a miasma of silvery smoke spilled nonchalantly from luscious petal pink lips and created an erotic image of both awe-inspiring power and utter command. Intense chocolate brown eyes were shimmering brightly between three colours… Gold, light blue and haunting brown. The first cry of a Hollow's death unconsciously announced the casualties that the orangette was willing to offer up to Shiro Zangetsu's blade like sacrifices as the wind tugged playfully at the regal folds of a menacing black shihakushō and beautiful white haori.

'Amai (4*)!' Ichigo yelled, a flicker of shunpo guiding him towards the heavens as a circle of opponents tried to attack him at once and several Hollows descended on his position without paying attention to just _who_ he was. The colour of his haori, the strength of his presence…it should _all_ have served as a reminder to Hueco Mundo that attacking him was perhaps not the best idea. If left to his own devices, there wouldn't be as much carnage sweeping through their home. But Ichigo had forgotten that Hollows relied only on their instinct. Which in turn meant that he _too_ would fall into Ho'nō without holding back. It had been ages since his entire being had thrummed with such excitement, his soul quivering with a strange need to bow to only _one_ being he found worthy as he ignored the warning bells of fear that was echoing through his mind. He was forgetting what had prompted Nimaiya to send him here in the first place. Something was wrong with Shiro Zangetsu, even now the deadly blade was tightening the chain around Ichigo's arm as cackling laughter resounded powerfully through his mind and a powerful flood of reiatsu flowed challengingly into the dark planes without restraint.

_'Yo, King! Ya really shouldn't 'ave come here!'_ Zangetsu purred with dark pleasure, stilling Ichigo's movements momentarily as dark eyes observed the shattered dome of Las Noches rising out of the sand in front of him and the several kilometre distance that spanned the desert sands. The haunting calls of Hollows seemed to be attracted to his presence much more than the orangette would have expected, chasing up his heartbeat as he flicked away the carmine rivulets still clinging to Zangetsu's deadly and tilted his head to side curiously. 'Why not, Zangetsu? You've been silent for so long but now you're talkative all of a sudden? What's going on, Bastard?'

_'Hn, I wonder…'_ The Hollow considered playfully, purring against the orangette's soul with pure satisfaction as Ichigo rested gloved fingertips against the unsealed blade and allowed a flood of sparking reiatsu to flow into his veins without restraint._ 'I was waiting fer ya to awaken yer instinct, Aruji, so that I could claim ya fer myself! I've always wanted te possess ya the moment I realized ya were a Beta. Now that sword master granted me the perfect opportunity to do so, fate will ensure that ya fall into my hands…Ichi-go! Ya will bow to me, Aruji, ya will belong to me just I will te ya in the end…'_

_'But first, make sure ya don't die, Aruji! Your opponents will become stronger and more vicious in their desires soon. Protect your soul well, if you call me out to materialize I will __**not**__ hold back in claiming you.' _

_'You __**belong**__ to me eternally, never forget that.'_

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><p>1* - Jinzen – Sword Meditation, used by Ichigo when he trained in his Inner World with Zangetsu to defeat Aizen<br>2* - Dexyuaru-Shin – Deity of Duality  
>3* - Kiseru – Japanese Smoking Pipe (Isshin smoked one in the past)<br>4* - Amai – Naïve

Well that's it for my notes, I think. Thank you so much for reading, I truly appreciate it. If I could please ask for a small review, I'd greatly appreciate hearing back from readers. It truly means the world to me and influences me to write as quickly as I am able to. Part 2 I'm hoping won't take too long to write but I have a lot of appointments over the next two weeks.

I can only promise to get it done as quickly as my inspiration dictates. Thank you my honeys for always being patient, I truly appreciate it.

Until next time,

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


	2. The Sinister Pride Of Perfection Part 2

Posting things at 1 in the morning again, I see. Sorry it took me so long to finish this one, my Honeys. I've been a little too busy lately and I have some more appointments this week so I can't tell when I'll update something next or what it is going to be. However, I finished this one so long and enjoyed myself immensely working with a new challenge. I ask that you please heed the warnings, The Sinister Pride Of Perfection isn't really for the faint of heart. I shall list them below:

**The Sinister Pride Of Perfection Contains: M/M Lemons, Tentacles, Alpha & Beta Dynamics, Zanpactō Materialization, Dominant! Shiro Zangetsu, Submissive! Ichigo, Violence, Rough Sex, Blood play, Spoilers for the newer chapters in Bleach, Canon Divergence Setting, Angst, Two-Shot, Dark Themes, Controversial and Dark Eroticism. **

The Set Pairing is: **Shiro Zangetsu (**白 斬月**) x Kurosaki Ichigo (**黒崎 一護**)**

So there you have it my honeys, I'm quite exhausted so please excuse my abruptness I've been stressed out too much over the last few days. Please remember, this story contains **Tentacles**, if it is not your cup of tea then I don't want to hear it. You read at your own risk:

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><p><span><strong>The Sinister Pride Of Perfection:<strong>

'_Claim_ me?' Ichigo breathed with pure disbelief, a golden kiseru stilling in its path towards luscious petal pink lips as the sound of choked laughter echoed deafeningly into the distance and instinctive golden hued orbs narrowed sensually behind long curling black lashes in daring challenge. '_**Oi**__!_ What _the_ fuck _Zan_getsu? Are ya talkin' in yer sleep?' The orangette teased, a merciless lash of reiatsu exploding from tanned skin to swiftly disintegrate a weak Hollow creeping up from behind before sharp claws had a chance to sink into his back. Eventually forced to expel a shaky breath from the depths of burning lungs, a painful seer of synchronized and oppressive reiatsu was burrowing deeply into highly sensitized skin everywhere that a black chain was wound around his right arm. Unconsciously blurring the edges of his vision with inconsistent colours, the orange haired twenty-year-old struggled to find a lower centre of gravity so that his large black blade did not overwhelm his stance or break his concentration. There was little time to stand around here and argue with his Zanpactō, he reminded himself. Ichigo _had_ to find a way back to Seireitei. The heated sensations that were skittering so warningly across his limbs, the way that Shiro Zangetsu became unbearably heavy and unyielding in the palm of his hand and the inescapable feeling of natural strength draining from his body _drop_ for _drop_…dimmed highly trained senses with a desperate need the orangette could not even begin to understand.

It was already setting his soul on _fire_ with sheer, _smouldering_, instinct. An attractive pink peppering playfully across pale cheeks as fluttering eyelashes coloured a startling golden hue one by one to mimic the intense shade of Hollow eyes. Even the drag of a slick pink tongue was forced to wet suddenly too dry lips, a previously rested heartbeat picking up an erratic tattoo in anticipation as several leaps and bounds of high-level shunpo carried the partial Quincy deeper into the desolate plains of Hueco Mundo. The dilapidated citadel of Las Noches was rising imposingly from the ruined ashes of its previous glory, only two visible towers and half the impressive dome left as the eternal crescent moon bathed the entire dimension in eerie silver rays that were unable to illuminate a heavy darkness boiling like ink in the peripheries of a black horizon. Something wasn't right within him though, Ichigo noted belatedly. His heart was restless with deep uncertainty, his soul constantly seeking something that it could never seem to find and Shiro Zangetsu's fiercely possessive words were ringing like thunderclaps in his ears. _Fate will ensure that ya fall into my hands…I-chi-go…ya __**will**__ bow to me…_ It had been years since the orangette had heard such instinctive possessiveness expressed by his Zanpactō, such _assured_ belief that his wielder would fall that he couldn't help but find the current situation more than a little unnerving.

He had almost forgotten the instinctive fear of having to share a part of his soul with a destructive Hollow. There was no way of knowing what would happen when he lost control of himself, no way of knowing if he would turn into a merciless monster that tore through his enemies with such ruthlessness and despair that it made the awe inspiring might of Tensa Zangetsu seem like mere child's play. Ichigo could remember it well…the cruel battle that had taken place atop the dome of Las Noches along with the shock, fear and disbelief he had felt when his eyes had finally cleared and he had regained his sense of awareness. There had been _no_ mercy, _no_ regret and _no_ humanity._ That_ day, Ichigo had completely lost himself to his Hollow instincts. The sheer pleasure of yielding himself to a being unbound by humanity, reality and conscience had been so overwhelming that even as he had watched horrified as Ulquiorra crumbled to dust, there had been nothing but dark satisfaction skittering across tanned skin and a restless hum of instinct that stole away all the previous honour the orangette had possessed. There was no doubt in Ichigo's mind that he had wanted nothing more than to tear through all those daring enough to oppose him and find the single being that was _worthy_ of calming his soul and fulfilling an eternally yearning heart that was constantly in search of strength and power…even when he had sworn to himself he would never again lose himself like that.

Sadly though, the mere experience of losing consciousness to the Hollow residing in his soul had been no less than utterly terrifying…even if—.

_'What're ya reminiscing about, King?!'_ A watery baritone scolded suddenly, a flash of black reiatsu exploding from the edge of a large blade as a deadly mass soared through the heavens and cut down a daring opponent that used menacing leathery wings to rise into the sky before him. _'The day that I'd allow a filthy Alpha other than myself to claim you will__** never**__ happen. I told ya, Ichi! Ya __**belong**__ to me! It's __**instinct**__. You __**cannot**__ fight it. You __**cannot**__ stop it. You __**cannot**__ use logic to find the answers. Before today is over, you __**will**__ be mine.'_ Hissing at the painful burn of reiatsu that settled in the pit of his stomach, Ichigo tightened his grip around an elongated hilt as he contemplated drawing Zangetsu Ossan to hopefully find some equilibrium between his two opposing powers. Somehow the Old Man always managed to quieten his more volatile Hollow counterpart…even when the young Shinigami did not enjoy pitting his two Zanpactō souls against each other. There was simply too much possibility for it to unbalance his soul and force him into an unaware state that was deadly to all those in close proximity. And with Hueco Mundo, Soul Society and the Human World still recovering from a devastating war, Ichigo had to remind himself **not** to let loose too recklessly. The Three Worlds were in a constant state of unbalance, his own powers taxed simply because he had to strengthen the increased traffic of souls being reborn and returned to their rightful place across the dimensions.

Now that he had gained a new purpose in the Reiōkyū, there was no time to be cutting down Hollows indiscriminately. In fact, Ichigo should probably seal Shiro Zangetsu away before things became truly dangerous. But why were there so many enemies after him? Intense golden eyes, having flickered back to chocolate brown momentarily, carefully observed several reiatsu inclined opponents racing through the desert sands below as another horde flew through the skies in an attempt to keep up with his inherent speed. That was _not_ good, Ichigo muttered to himself. He really shouldn't burden the Reiou anymore than he already was. Whether out of courtesy or a strange sense of needing to get away from so many enemies at once, the orange haired teen increased his previously leisure pace towards Las Noches as he prepared to call on a powerful kidō barrier to seal himself inside of until he could figure out a way to return to Seireitei or find out what was wrong with him. The only true problem that he encountered was that his kidō was hastily learned and erratic at best. Even though the master of kidō, Kirinji, had taught the newly instated Royal Guard all the incantations and spells he could manage, refined reiatsu control had never been one of Ichigo's strong points. It still wasn't. But luckily there was some time on his side.

Black waraji threw up an arc of silvery sand as he descended from the heavens above, a heavy lash of reiatsu cutting through the air with harsh warning as Ichigo abruptly stilled those planning to rise against him the moment he entered the ruins of Hueco Mundo's desolate palace. The arrogance he displayed in trespassing on what was considered sacred ground in this dimension, did not once register in the orangette's mind. So far as he could tell, this was where the least amount of Hollows were gathered and he would be the safest. The crumbling relic was also an area he was _somewhat_ familiar with, not to mention the painted dome that had somehow managed to hold onto its bright blue skies and false sunlight. Stepping into such a brightly lit space after the deep darkness of the outside though, swiftly disorientated the twenty-year-old as he reluctantly parted his lips with a lilting kidō incantation. Using several agonizing seconds of strict concentration, a large area of shattered buildings, solitary boulders and twisted concrete became artfully encompassed in a square mile of thick blue reishi walls and a surprisingly stable barrier. Chocolate brown eyes, flickering light blue with the gathering reishi of his Quincy inheritance, watching detachedly as a deep gash appeared on his palm when he dragged Zangetsu across pale skin and used the noble Shinigami blood running through his veins to strengthen the shield with a longer and more complex follow up incantation.

Driving a large Zanpactō upright in the sand to increase the range of power around him, a haunting black glow seeped steadily through thick walls as not even a lick of arid wind stirred the desert sands or a single curious eye had a chance to see inside. Skilfully creating an almost separate dimension to conceal himself in, Ichigo shuttered his eyes tiredly when a wave of dizziness threatened to overpower his mind and a slow breath of lost control hitched painfully in the back of his throat. How could a simple barrier like this drain him so completely? It was simply unthinkable! Even the harsh lash of reiatsu that had exploded from Zangetsu's blade earlier had tired him out,_ regardless_ of it not even being a tenth of the reiatsu he normally expelled in a single Getsuga Tenshō. Absently bringing a pale palm to his lips, a slick pink tongue ran soothingly across a surprisingly deep cut as not even the bitter taste of his own blood seemed to snap the teen from the strange sense of instinct and anxiety that descended across intensely trained senses. Before he could register what he was doing though, glowing blue eyes fluttered half-mast with an instinctive purr as a fingerless tekkō glove came to rest against the pommel of Shiro Zangetsu's hilt. Hissing in surprise when a strange echo of erotic pleasure rose wildly within his soul, a pink tongue trailed a sensual path between pale fingertips to capture several droplets of carmine before they had a chance to widen into a small pool by his feet.

_Something_ told him that minimizing the scent he gave off, would protect him more effectively than a barrier that could be broken when he lost control of his concentration. Though, _how_ exactly he knew that, Ichigo did not know. Eventually satisfied that he had cleaned out the wound after several minutes, a dark sense of foreboding straightened tensed shoulders as a flicker of green kaidō encircled his left hand and healed the gash without thought. Several unsteady steps were leading him towards a large boulder in front of him, menacing shadows dancing across pale sand as the orangette laid back against sun-baked concrete and chocolate brown eyes never once strayed from where Shiro Zangetsu had become an anchor for an intricate barrier. Even with the several meter distance that separated them, Ichigo felt uncomfortably unbalanced and unsettled where he was. The chain that wound up his right arm had finally let go, trailing towards the ground with melodic tinkling sounds as a quiet breeze snuck inside to tug playfully at scruffy orange locks and prompted hauntingly beautiful strands to dance like tangerine shadows across fast reddening cheeks. Several rushing breaths were also spilling forth from lush petal pink lips, the orangette propping up his thigh to make himself more comfortable as he turned his head to the side bashfully when something within _willed_ him to yield his entire being to his Hollow and materialize the white haired doppelganger by his side.

But wherever _that_ incessant urge had come from, Ichigo was quick to lock it away as he stubbornly ignored the painful lash of rejected emotion that enclosed his heart in a fist of ice. He was _supposed_ to be thinking of a way out of here, he reminded himself harshly. Whatever had been awakened within him when the Sword Master had sent him here, was going to have to wait. It did not matter that there was a lingering fear enclosing his consciousness and a dark warning telling him that he _really_ shouldn't have come here. Ichigo felt deeply vulnerable in this world, exposed to his instincts and like the sort of prey his enemies would hunt down until he either gave them what they wanted or he was torn to pieces without having had a chance to defend himself. The mere thought of that should have been ridiculous however, he was _Kurosaki Ichigo_ for fuck's sake. His power welled up within him with such deadly amounts that no one had ever been able to contain it but he himself. He was eternally unshakable once his mind had been steeled, his heart unwavering with instinct and his power unstoppable once his reiatsu was sharpened with valiant resolve. However, there was _no_ doubt that he felt these emotions as clear as day. They were twisting painfully through his gut, prompting him to curl trembling fingertips around Zangetsu Ossan's more indiscernible hilt as he pinned the smaller wakizashi in the sand beside him so that he could reach for protection more swiftly.

That was a mistake, though. With the calmer of his Zanpactō humming quietly next to him, chocolate brown eyes eventually drifted shut exhaustedly as a deep frown furrowed the perpetual scowl between tangerine brows and the orange haired Shinigami struggled to concentrate on a solution to his current problem. How was he supposed to return home? How could he fix the rift between him and Shiro Zangetsu? And the sensations racing through his blood, how could he calm them? There were so many questions that he had to answer, so many things that he had to do as it completely pilfered his concentration when he should be keeping himself in control to protect the barrier from collapse. With a quiet sigh spilling unknowingly from parted lips instead, elegant fingertips searched restlessly for the long kiseru that was usually clipped to the decorative obijime (1*) of pitch black tassels and golden chains wound around the outside of a thick golden sash. The one unshakable and shameful habit he had picked up from the Oyaji a year ago, was the only thing that offered Ichigo several moments of peace when the memories became too much or he needed something to stabilize and occupy his hands lest he tug on his hair or bite through his bottom lip in distress. When he came up empty-handed in his search, confused brown eyes snapped open irritably to scan the distance for the lulling vice his father had gifted him after the Thousand Year Blood War had ended.

_'You are growing up, son.' _Isshin had said all-importantly late one afternoon, the sun having sent a burning flicker dancing through deeply serious brown eyes._ 'As the current heir to the Shiba Clan and the Sixth Royal Guard of the Reiōkyū, I wish to pass my kiseru on to you. But only after you learn to defeat Daddy's Raikōhō (2*) with your own!'_ Che, it hadn't even taken Ichigo a week to learn the destructive kidō that the Shiba Clan was famous for and simultaneously flatten his Old Man with a powerful blast of golden lightning. It was what had prompted Kirinji to take an interest in teaching the orangette the more complex ups and downs of demon arts in the first place, even when it had the possibility of making the youngest of the Zero Division more dangerous than he already was. Luckily though, Ichigo's reiatsu yielded itself naturally to the higher level spells than the lower level spells that could be more useful in battle. His reiatsu was simply too complex to weave so finely and lower deliberately to aid him in battle, becoming a deadly two-way street that he could not use very well at all. As a natural protector however, those who fell under the influence of the Dexyuaru-Shin's valour and compassion were eternally shielded from harm by the essence of his entire existence…just like he stood up to the strongest and most deadly forces to willingly sacrifice himself for those he loved. It was the inheritance of 'humanity and Soul Society's greatest and most revered traits' the Oyaji had called it.

Only, the orange haired twenty-year-old felt like it was no use out here in the darkness of Hueco Mundo. When he was cut off from his family that lived in the Reiōkyū and no one to still his unrest but a silent Zanpactō and another being inside his soul seeking to 'claim' him, the Deity of Duality seriously needed a break from all his rushing thoughts and unsettled powers. Scanning the artificially lighted desert sands spread out before him, chocolate brown eyes eventually lighted up with a flash of dark pleasure when they spotted a lazy curl of smoke drifting aimlessly through the air. Though, what his kiseru was doing ten meters away from where had first landed and Zangetsu's blade was buried upright in the sand, was anyone's guess. Barely concealing the groan of irritation that rumbled in the back of the teen's throat, an impressive display of fluid grace guided Ichigo to his feet as he took his sweet time walking towards the fallen but not forgotten treasure. There was no hurry after all, the Hollows wouldn't dare penetrate a barrier that was made by noble Shinigami blood and a deadly sword that was practically unrivalled and unmatched in strength within this domain. Tilting his head to the side curiously when a breeze swirled warmly against his skin and tugged restlessly at the folds of white haori, a strangely welcoming and sickeningly sweet scent was cresting powerfully against his senses as a rustle of sand invaded his hearing and black waraji stilled momentarily to discern his surroundings.

'Am I dreaming, Zangetsu…or does the desert wind sound like snakes?' He whispered aloud, hoping to coax Shiro into talking to him when the silence inside his soul became too painful to bear. There was no answer however, an irritable 'che' dripping like venom from the tip of a pink tongue as the orange haired Shinigami reached his hand forward to grasp a kiseru that was half buried in the sand and perfumed the air with saccharine smoke. It was a miracle it had stayed lit for as long as it had, he thought absently. The instant that he bent over to retrieve it though, pale eyelids grew unbearably heavy as his head spun in dizzying circles and his body slumped listlessly and nearly threw him to the desert floor in an undignified heap. 'S-shit! What the hell?!' He cursed openly, his palm mere inches away from snatching the slim pipe before a small explosion of sand flew into his eyes and something restrictive wound painfully tight around his right wrist. Before a cry could leave his lips and his mind had a chance to process what was happening, several binding ties curled tightly around his waist, left arm, both legs and yanked him backwards so fast that his vision blurred and the wind howled deafeningly in his ears. Suspending him several metres above the ground, glowing chocolate brown orbs bled burning gold in the artificial sunlight as the orange haired twenty-year-old could just about make out a mass of several deep purple and glistening tentacles that exploded from the sand below.

Sending one Zanpactō flying into the distance, only Shiro Zangetsu remained steadfastly undisturbed in his anchoring point as the harsh grip tightened around Ichigo's waist and an instinctive flow of reishi saturated his veins before his captor had a chance to impale his body with spikes or squeeze him into unconsciousness. The more he struggled however, the tighter the restraints became as a breathless howl echoed deafeningly into the night and the orangette shuddered in disgust at the sensation of viscous fluid smearing against his skin and soaking through his clothes. It was clear, slippery and sticky; fogging up his mind with a heady aroma that was both overpowering to his sense of smell and curled a strange nausea through his stomach. A shiver of warning was also racing coldly down Ichigo's spine, all the control he had thought he could expel, fading from his consciousness as a hint of panic began to seep into his soul the moment that a crack formed in the barrier several metres above him. Violently shoving aside all other problems, the orangette knew instinctively that if he did not keep the Kekkai (3*) in place, he would be utterly overwhelmed by the Hollows gathering on the other side.

'F-fuck! Let me go you sneaky bastard, don't make me use—.' Trailing off with a violent hiss, golden orbs slowly coloured a brighter and sharper hue as a deep ink black began to seep into the whites of his eyes and the true hopelessness of the situation finally dawned on him. With a complex barrier affectively locking him inside, there was no way he could release any power without shattering the only thing that was keeping him safe. He couldn't reach for his Zanpactō to defend himself, either. Whatever Hollow had managed to burrow beneath the sands to seek him out, had some intelligence to it that was proving quite deadly.

'Kuso (4*)!' Ichigo cursed vehemently, renewing his struggles against the binds until another tentacle wrapped around his neck and smeared a trail of sticky liquid across his left cheek. '_Let_ me go! Let me—.'

'Ah, ah~! My little maturing Beta,' A rumbling voice purred menacingly, reverberating through the very ground and encompassing the distance around them as a disgruntled whine drifted despairingly from petal pink lips and a fog of heaviness descended across struggling limbs. 'It has been millennia since I've scented a soul so sweet and ripe for the picking. You make good prey, stupid enough to seal yourself in a Shinigami barrier without paying attention to the ground you are walking on.'

'But it doesn't matter, you'll start to feel the effects of my power soon enough and then the true fun will begin. Your pleasure will be infinitely sweet, little Hollow. Please remember to scream, I do _so_ love silencing the defiant ones and teaching them their place...'

**...**

'Man your senses must be dull,' Ichigo hissed with dark anger, several shivers of growing trepidation racing coldly down his spine as a slimy tentacle brushed the corner of his mouth and smeared sticky liquid all across luscious petal pink lips. 'I'm no Hollow, you Bastard! Or a Beta! Whatever a fucking Beta is. I'm a Shinigami! Now _let_ me go!' Not that Ichigo was stupid enough to believe such threats would work on this type of enemy, but he was desperate enough to try anything that would free his binds without making the situation worse than it was. All that he could see were several deep purple appendages, numbering in the tens or twenties or (all possessing a ten-to-fifteen centimetre diameter each), dancing to the will of their master with agile movements and expert precision. For possessing such flimsy appearances, they were stronger than steel and more durable than any other material the orangette had fought against before. He even tried to tear them apart with the little leeway his hands were given, pale palms and blunt fingernails struggling to gain purchase on a slippery surface as golden eyes narrowed determinedly behind pale eyelids and he glared at the shadow his closest Zanpactō cast over the sands. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, he could will that lengthened heavenly chain to rise into his hands. Only, the larger of the dual blades was dutifully keeping the barrier activated despite the burst of amused laughter that rang deafeningly in the orangette's mind.

_'I warned ya to be careful, King!'_ Shiro purred playfully, bringing to the forefront of his wielder's mind the words he had spoken earlier as the restless Shinigami counterpart groaned with strain and scowled heatedly at an enemy he could not see or fight against affectively. Not only that, skilful movements were binding Ichigo's arms to side as a heavy fog of sparking electricity skittered across flawlessly tanned skin the moment that two tentacles slithered up his legs and partially disappeared beneath a black hakama. Forcing his stance apart when he raised his right knee in defiance to gain more freedom of movement, it was clear in those moments that the Royal Guard couldn't kick away the rest of the tentacles or defend himself. There was nothing left but to vow to his very soul that he would _not_ go down without a fight. His entire being was violently protesting this situation, his yearning heart telling him that this _wasn't_ what he was searching for and a Hollow of this low level would _never_ in a million years be worthy enough to tame his vast reiatsu and all-encompassing strength. Sadly though, his body was in a disagreement with that fact. The alarming sensation of strength draining from his limbs _drop_ for _drop_, was increasing exponentially as the previous fatigue and unrest the orange haired teen had felt, peaked against his consciousness and unknowingly weakened his rising reiatsu with failing confidence.

_Something wasn't right_, he thought to himself in a moment of clarity. His breaths were rasping painfully in his throat, his heart racing an erratic tattoo against his chest as the edges of his vision blurred alarmingly and an overwhelming heat exploded beneath his skin. Creating a tingling, almost pleasant sensation, which sunk into his flesh everywhere that clear fluid came into direct contact with bare skin, a responding groan rose needily in the back of his throat. With petal pink lips already burning in feverish need, golden eyes struggled to focus on his surroundings as a slick pink tongue danced sensually across a plush surface to hopefully soothe away a stinging ache and unquenchable need. It wasn't working however, even when the liquid a tentacle had left behind was sickeningly sweet with rich dark chocolate and spearmint taste. It was constructing an intoxicating combination, stealing across a hazed awareness with growing bliss as a searing need prompted the orangette to seek more of the addicting treat to satiate his growing thirst. All forms of sobriety was fleeing his mind, a deeply erotic moan lodging in his throat as a powerful rush of arousal shot down a bowed spine and forced him to bow back with dark eroticism. Ichigo _really_ couldn't understand why he was reacting so intensely anymore, a deep flush was seared permanently across pale cheeks as he abruptly jerked his head to the side when a sly tentacle reach towards his mouth with a more sinister purpose.

'Fuck! S-stop it! _Stop_ it, damn it!' He howled with pure rage, a pained cry spiralling into the air unbidden of his will as the grip around his waist tightened considerably and the sound of ripping fabric echoed menacingly into the distance. Just as Ichigo had predicted earlier, the tentacles that were creeping across his torso had sprouted deadly spikes that were needle thin but razor sharp. Dragging gashes in his clothes and scratching painfully across tanned skin, a vibrant mass of scruffy orange locks was sent flying evocatively around his head with a halo of haunting colour as he threw his head back in a desperate attempt to get away from his invisible captor. He couldn't_ believe_ that he was losing himself so spectacularly! He had even lapped up a trail of sticky fluid just because it smelled sickeningly sweet and deeply enticing. Something was _definitely_ wrong with his senses. This was an unbearable insult to the Dexyuaru-Shin's honed battle instincts and natural strength, damn it. Whatever component was present in the Hollow's attacks, was _potent_. The orange haired Shinigami could easily liken it to a falsely sweet poison that intoxicated its victims before leaving them utterly helpless against true danger. Only now, it was his turn to slowly but surely begin to understand the true helplessness and despair of the situation surrounding him.

With every minute that passed, his ragging reiatsu was weakening further and further and slipping more and more from his unwavering grasp...

This was the first time the orangette had encountered warfare of this underhanded nature, his mind spinning in dizzying circles as he struggled to grasp onto any link binding him to his closest Zanpactō. Regardless of him stubbornly trying to avoid any sort of situation where he would have to materialize Zangetsu by his side, the orange haired teen was not keen on suffering humiliation at agile tentacles. Something Shiro Zangetsu had said earlier truly frightened Ichigo, igniting a stubborn will within him to defy his own Hollow power even if it could grant him the strength to survive. The lingering fear of losing himself to his instincts, had been birthed to life the instant he had been cast down into this dimension for a second time. After learning such strict control over both of his Zanpactō when he had faced the Quincy Emperor, the Shiba Heir was ashamed to admit that he was deeply afraid of losing that control to something he could not understand or tame. And it was a fear and hesitation that could prove fatal. A chocked cry suddenly echoed despairingly into the sky, a deep purple appendage dragging teasingly across lush lips as another simultaneously dug into the side of his neck and thinned out considerably. Elongating slightly before slipping into his ear canal without hesitation, it abruptly threw Ichigo's stomach upside with shuddering disgust as golden eyes (now bathed in a sea of black sclera), widened in surprise when a sinister tentacle took advantage and forced itself into his mouth.

'Stubborn Beta, prey of your level shouldn't fight a Alpha when they are already captured!' A deep voice rumbled threateningly, chocking the orangette with a flood of cool liquid that slid slickly down his throat and increased the range of his already painfully stretched awareness. 'Soon enough you won't be able to move except feel pleasure and the effects of an aphrodisiac. So, why fight me, little Beta? Your rapture will be unlike anything you have ever experienced before and I promise to devour you painlessly afterwards!'_ Like hell you will_, Ichigo wanted to yell. But he couldn't speak for himself or bite down. His head was growing unbearably heavy with artificial dizziness, sensual droplets spilling from the corner of his mouth as he was forced to swallow against the strange sensations before he drowned or a tentacle decided to rip him apart, spikes and all, from the inside of his throat and stomach. This was what _true_ danger felt like, he decided. His eyelids were fluttering dangerously with fatigue as his very soul reached out to the one that had laughed at his weakness earlier. In the end, it didn't seem like he was going to be given a choice… Things were happening too fast for his mind to keep up, his heart straining in his chest as his breaths echoed mournfully with muffled sobs that bordered on panicked and aroused at the same time. Not even the flood gates opening on the strict control of his oppressive reiatsu was enough to force his captor to let him go.

It only seem to entice the Hollow more, slick tendrils sliding up a trembling thigh before slipping slyly between the gaps of a black shihakushō as it left a sticky trail burning across heated skin and bathed a pleasured hazed mind in an overpowering scent of attractive spearmint and rich dark chocolate. The heady aroma seemed _so_ familiar to him, Ichigo thought to himself absently. He could have _sworn_ that he had smelt it long before now. Sadly, his mind simply couldn't recall where. It was becoming too much for his consciousness to bear, golden eyes burning brighter as a painful sear branded two evocative, pitch black, curving lines below his left eye and a violent cough heaved his lungs when an impromptu gag was mercifully retracted from his mouth. Messy orange locks were skittering darkly across reddened cheeks, the orange haired Beta tipping his head forward in forced submission as he gazed helplessly at the large black blade that was standing upright in the sand several feet below him. It felt like Ichigo was losing himself little by little, his heart recalling the piercing words Zangetsu had whispered earlier as a deeply animalistic cry rose despairingly in his throat._ 'Protect your soul well, if you call me out to materialize I will __**not**__ hold back in claiming you_.' Prompting the orangette to reach for the soul tie that bound him to the spirit dwelling in his sword, he_ knew_ that there was no more going back.

He simply _refused_ to go down like this! No Shiba would be devoured by a weak Hollow just because it used underhanded methods to manipulate its prey! And Ichigo wasn't prey, damn it! He was a Hollow's worst nightmare, not to the mention the deadly first and most complete Arrancar that made up the most destructive part of his powers. 'Zangetsu! Me o samase (5*), you lazy bastard! Wake up! You've been sleeping for far too long! _**Wake**_ up!' He yelled defiantly, a massive blast of pitch black reiatsu erupting from the depths of a dark blade before a violent wind swirled the sand in a protective funnel and a watery baritone rose teasingly across highly sensitized skin. A welcoming reiatsu was brushing invitingly against Ichigo's straining soul, the explosion of oppressive Hollow power so intense that the sixth member of the Zero Division could have sworn that his Zanpactō's presence was much more potent than he remembered it. It was ragging like thunder in his palms, the sound of sadistic laughter cutting through his spinning thoughts with lilting promise as the orangette's entire being hummed with pleasure when the familiar sensation of his soul companion solidified his reiatsu and drew closer in proximity. A fierce protectiveness was already wrapping itself around trembling shoulders like a cloak, a distinctive warmth soothing away some of the dizziness that had settled across a spinning mind as Ichigo renewed his struggles to free himself from death's grip.

'Zangetsu!' The tentacles around him had loosened minutely in surprise, offering the orangette a larger range of movement as he tried to retaliate a sticky wetness that was sliding on a lewd path up his thigh. Drawing up his thigh to get away from the touch, his shoulders arched back slightly as a waraji made satisfying contact with a purple surface. 'Let me go, you fucking bastard! I've had enough of your games and—.' Trailing off in hitched surprise when a cool slickness wound around his hips and another tentacle slid beneath the hem of his hakama towards a very intimate place, a cry of both fear and desperation howled powerfully into the distance as the orange haired teen's world suddenly cracked apart and everything came to a screeching halt. That was—! He couldn't _think_, couldn't_ breathe_, golden eyes widening with sheer mortification and disbelief as wracking sensation of intense rapture paralyzed his movements and forced him to simultaneously bite through his bottom lip in the hopes of silencing a deeply pleasurable moan building in his throat. Dear Kami, but this being's depravity simply knew no bounds! A vast explosion of distressed reiatsu was rocking powerfully into the planes of Hueco Mundo, the twenty-year-old panting for breath as a fierce fire scorched through his veins and brought to the forefront of his mind the shameful reaction that his own body was having to the unusual and unexpected bliss.

'Che, ever heard of the word 'please', King?' A lulling baritone purred abruptly, the sound of tinkling chains caressing fine hearing as steady waraji transversed soft sand with a leisure and sedate pace. 'It doesn't matter, I suppose, I-chi-go. Since ya went and materialized me, Baka! I can make you say 'please' now as many times as I like whilst claiming what is _rightfully_ mine.' Expelling a vast amount of strength just to lift his bowed head upwards, mortified golden eyes collided pleading with the shadowed figure that emerged from a dense black fog as the orange haired Shinigami did a double take at the ethereal being that came to halt in the line of his sight. An inverted white shihakusho was settled evocatively across a tall, lithe, frame; a vast array of thigh-length white locks dancing hypnotically to the whimsies of the wind as a pitch black haori dragged several meters of silk on the sand behind a pleated white hakama. A sinister smile was just as insane as Ichigo remembered it, mirroring golden eyes flashing with fierce possessiveness as elegant black nailed fingertips balanced a large black blade across a left shoulder. They remained loosely curled around an elongated hilt though, nonchalantly displaying an apathetic stance that should not be mistaken for laziness as the tip of a blue tongue dragged sensually across pale lips and the white haired Zanpactō tipped his head forward under a newly gained weight that two long, sharp-angled and deadly curved horns dragged against the sides of his head.

Not only that, the source of tinkling chains came from a surprisingly elegant circlet that was settled in the centre of a pale forehead with the form of a bowing crescent moon and pitch black sun. Artfully accentuated by scruffy white bangs that tumbled across pale cheeks, Ichigo was strangely mesmerized by numerous intricate black chains that wound up pitch black horns in regal links and hung in perfect synchronicity about a white haloed head. To call Shiro Zangetsu anything close to regal was _not_ something that had ever occurred to the orangette before, even when he couldn't deny the instinctive attraction his soul felt to the being that was standing below him with a sensual, hungry, gaze searing into tanned skin and a pulsing reiatsu that was threatening to crack the intricate barrier Ichigo just barely managed to keep stable. His breaths were already hitching painfully in his throat, a darkening flush colouring pale cheeks as a slick wetness dragged intimately across his inner thigh and encircled a fast hardening arousal beneath his hakama. _Shit_! This was just embarrassing! The heaviness of his instincts were swiftly stealing away his awareness, the Hollow keeping him captive forcing Ichigo back to the reality as purple tentacles shattered whatever relief he had felt at Zangetsu's arrival. Arching back and turning his head to the side bashfully when intense golden eyes observed him with narrowed interest, petal pink lips were struggling to part with the words to call out for help.

'Z-Zan…Zan…Zangetsu…I—.'

'That's a_ really_ nice expression you have there, King.' Shiro leered, a flicker of sonido guiding him towards the place where his Aruji had lost his kiseru as he picked up the smoking pipe and swung a heavy blade behind him to sever a purple tentacle that tried to reach for his ankles. 'Who would 'ave thought that you'd be caught off guard by a weak Alpha? I should leave you hanging there as punishment for not listening to me, Ichigo.' Zangetsu purred menacingly, absent fingertips brushing sand from a smoking pipe as a hungry gaze took in the deeply arousing position that his Aruji was in. He was paying no mind to the Hollow that was screaming bloody murder in his ears, merely watching as the orange haired Shinigami remained suspended several feet in the air and writhed sensually in falsified pleasure. Fuck! But his King was beautiful. Those golden eyes were burning fiercely with awakening Beta instincts, simply begging a worthy Alpha to claim an untainted soul as black estigma marked a being that became stronger and more beautiful than anything Shiro had ever seen before. He felt like he was witnessing the sacred pinnacle of an ethereal being's transformation, a soul being born into existence just for him as he made sure never to let his Aruji's eyes stray from his gaze. Lidding mirroring orbs behind pale eyelids soon after that in response, the white haired Alpha watched spellbound as vibrant orange locks danced hypnotically across red cheeks and luscious lips parted with a call of his name.

''re ya losin' yer head, Ichigo? Does it feel like my presence is eatin' into yer soul, igniting yer heart in a unquenchable lust? Do you feel a need to yield _only_ to me?' Observing the startled jerk of an orange head and guiltily averted eyes, Zangetsu grinned with dark pleasure as he brought a lit kiseru to his lips and blew a sensual curl of silvery smoke into the air from between parted lips. 'That, my Beloved King, betrays your answer to me. What you are feelin' Aruji, is the awakening of yer true instincts. You sealed your fate the instant ya stepped into this godforsaken desert. Out here any Alpha has fair claim on your soul. And to be caught by an aphrodisiac so quickly, it seems that you are much further along into yer first heat than I thought.' Shiro noted calmly, an impressive leap of sonido guiding him into the air as he stilled mere inches from Ichigo's form. Smiling playfully when golden eyes locked defiantly with his, a slick blue tongue peaked out boldly to lap away a trail of sticky liquid that was dripping from the corner of petal pink lips and a glistening trail that was smeared across pinked cheeks. Sealing away a black blade and draping it across his back when he realized there was no true need for it, a deadly glare narrowed Shiro's eyes when a daring tentacle attempted to wind around his waist and capture him too.

'Oi! Bastard!' He yelled with barely controlled rage, a vast lash of reiatsu disintegrating several tentacles to ash as he no longer felt any need to reign in his destructive powers. 'It seems yer instincts have failed ya! It is not wise to raise your tentacles against me or defile my Beloved King like yeh 'ave. Now shut up!' A menacing baritone breathed with surprising calm, black nailed fingertips burying calmingly in messy orange locks as Zangetsu pulled a bowed head forward and allowed Ichigo's forehead came to rest against his shoulder. Glaring openly at the place where most of those purple tentacles had erupted from the sand, scruffy white bangs threw instinctive golden eyes in dark shadow as the Claiming Alpha raised a single finger and pointed it at his target. 'Kiero (6*)!' A void of power instantly exploded against a powerful barrier, a pitch black cero spiralling to life with strict control as it left the entire Hueco Mundo taking a collective gasp before an oppressive reiatsu extended so far across the heavens that it darkened a night sky for miles on end. The King's precarious Kekkai shattered within seconds, a pained cry echoing from petal pink lips as the orange haired Beta felt the retaliating force of the blast snap against his consciousness. All his strength was draining from his body in response, a silent prayer of thanks falling from the tip of his tongue as a taller frame wound him in a protective embrace and strong arms slid comfortingly around his waist.

'_Really_ now, Ichigo…was is truly necessary for you to step into such a dangerous trap?' Zangetsu asked concernedly, an affectionate kiss brushing against the top of a scruffy orange head as he tightened his grip around trembling hips and guided the two of them back towards the desert surface. 'Yer just as fuckin' reckless as always! It worries me incessantly, damn it! I'm sorry, King…yer probably not going to like what's coming next. I'll have to keep my promise now and claim what is rightfully mine, I won't allow a weak Hollow to taint your power so I'll erase his stain with my own claim.'

'I won't let you slip through my fingers for a second time, Ichigo. Not now…not ever.'

* * *

><p>Nuzzling a white hakama clad thigh quite happily, lust glazed golden eyes scanned the vast desert horizon with awe as not even a single Hollow presence dared to approach the shattered citadel where Zangetsu had staked a personal claim of ownership across the lands. Several gasping breaths were still heaving painfully in a rapidly rising and falling chest, the orange haired Deity of Duality curling himself into a smaller target as he moaned softly with deep satisfaction when elegant black nailed fingertips carded soothingly through messy orange hair and scratched his scalp to settle the overwhelming sensations that were racing so distractingly across trembling limbs. Soft thigh-length white locks were tumbling haphazardly over a strong shoulder, brushing playfully against flushed cheeks as hazed golden eyes lidded down in erotic challenge and the partial Quincy shivered in need the moment that a large black blade was driven into the concrete slab they were currently occupying next to him. Watching with a brush of confusion as a black and gold kiseru rose sensually towards pale lips, Ichigo struggled to comprehend what was going on around him as a painful need saturated his stomach and a strange purring sound, caught between a hum and sensual moan, tumbled evocatively from parted petal pink lips unbidden of his permission.<p>

'Zan-_Zan_getsu…please…it hurts, I want—.' Raising himself on his elbows with considerable strain, Ichigo leaned intimately over his Zanpactō's lap as he lost all inhibition that had previously been holding him back and licked the corner of pale lips where a droplet of sticky liquid had been left behind. It was sweet, dripping onto the tip of his tongue with burning spearmint as he did not even flinch or draw back when an exasperated sigh blew a miasma of silvery smoke across flushed cheeks and black nailed fingertips gripped his chin in a tender lover's touch. 'Hush now, King.' A lilting baritone said soothingly, elegant movements extinguishing smouldering tobacco in the sand as the air became heavily scented with freshly picked strawberries and the white haired doppelganger pressed his forehead against perpetually furrowed tangerine brows. 'Ya need to relax, Ichi, and trust me completely. I cannot claim you properly if ya don't trust me and I refuse to force you into this, Aruji. I'm _not_ like other Alphas. I promise to look after you in return, my eternal Beloved, _my_ King. I will never again leave your side or let you suffer pain. But ya have to tell me the truth of what yer instincts are whispering.' Resting a single forefinger against a tattered black kosode that was drawn across Ichigo's heart, the orange haired teen shuddered in confusion when pitch black nails lengthened to reflect hollow-like claws that were three inches in length and tapered off to long, needle sharp and circular points.

'Ho'nō?' He whispered absently, golden eyes fluttering shut behind long golden lashes for several moments of peace as he eventually allowed the yearning need inside his soul to guide him forward when he realized there was no more need to pay attention to the protesting thoughts that were cresting so violently against his consciousness. Ichigo truly didn't care what was going on anymore, all that mattered was that he closed the gap between him and the powerful being that was curled so protectively around him. Slick lips were sliding sensually across a pale pair that tasted _oh_ so sweetly of strawberry flavoured tobacco and a lilting warmth that could only belong to Shiro Zangetsu, _his_ Shiro Zangetsu. There was no more time for indecision, the awakening Beta parting his lips for a wet tongue that traced his bottom lip in askance as it forced a pleasured moan to lodge in the back of his throat and a warm slickness slid into his mouth to steal away all forms of coherency he had left. Nothing mattered in those moments but satisfying the overwhelming need that had been birthed to life within him, his heart racing against his chest as he curled absent fingertips around an elongated Zanpactō hilt and gripped an inverted black haori simultaneously in his other hand. Every part of Zangetsu that there was, Ichigo didn't want to let go of either of them as he yielded himself instinctively to an intimate dance of dominance and submission that was being fought between two questing tongues.

It felt _so_ good, pure bliss paralyzing trembling limbs as a lazy arm curled around impatiently swaying hips to still restless movements and white waraji pressed against a smooth surface to cradle Ichigo's form closer to a blissfully heated body. Leaning into the kiss with no intention of drawing back or stopping the flow of events, elegant fingertips eventually wound through fistfuls of long white hair and instinctively managed to angle himself just right so that menacing long horns did not accidentally take out an eye or score a deep cut across red flushed cheeks. Those tapering tips were just as deadly as the first time he had seen them, humming with gathering reiatsu that Ichigo knew could create one of the most frightening ceros ever to be let loose in the deserts of Hueco Mundo. He only had a brief second to wonder why Shiro had not blasted the other Hollow with a cero borne of his full powers, when that thought promptly drifted away from his consciousness as a swift bite sunk into his bottom lip and caused a pleasured cry to ring loudly from petal pink lips. He was arching back with deep disappointment, mourning the loss of their intimacy when an erotic entanglement of tongues was broken without his consent and golden eyes stared yearningly at a thick string of saliva that still connected the two of them intimately. Glowing orbs were hooded needily behind long lashes as several panting breaths coloured the air misty white and his body seemed to heat up with gathering reishi from within.

'S-Shi? S-still hurts, I can't…I…' He trailed off with considerable strain, referring confusedly to the unquenchable fire that was twisting painfully through the pit of his stomach and a pulsing arousal that was just begging for release it couldn't seem to find. He needed more…more _pleasure_…more _pain_…more _instinct_…more _contact_…more—. 'Ah, I know. That bastard did a real number on yah, Aruji. I've never heard you moan so loudly before, even when ya were pleasurin' yerself. Did it feel good, King?' Scowling heatedly at those teasing words, vibrant tangerine strands were sent flying wildly in a halo of colour as he tried to create some distance between the overly sensitized pleasure that raced down his spine when sly fingertips slid teasing up the inside of his thigh and subtly outlined a straining erection through the fabric of black hakama. A haze of white was descending across a blurring vision, a furrowed forehead colliding with a black clad shoulder to hopefully ground himself against the assault as he dug blunt fingernails in Zangetsu's back and did the only thing he could of to punish his Zanpactō: he bit the shell of a pale ear so hard that he thought a rush of blood was dancing across his tongue. The white haired Alpha jerked back abruptly with a deeply angered hiss, a harsh grip of warning winding through scruffy orange locks to force Ichigo to let go as a deadly glare narrowed gold eyes and a sinister grin of amusement danced darkly across hauntingly attractive features.

'What's there to get so embarrassed 'bout, I-chi-go?' Zangetsu leered seductively, a deafening cry echoing into the night air as sharpened canines dug deeply into the side of Ichigo's neck in retaliation and broke through tanned skin without any true effort. Lapping up several carmine rivulets that danced across sensitive flesh and sunk into the collar of a white haori, the orange haired twenty-year-old slowly lost his mind as a powerful and ceaseless flood of pitch black reiatsu forced itself into the wound and blacked out his consciousness for several seconds. 'H-hah! Z-Zangetsu! _Please_!' He cried, struggling to focus on reality when he came to and found himself sprawled on his back without knowing how he had gotten there as Zangetsu settled himself between parted thighs and a sly blue tongue licked away vibrant red droplets that were smeared across pale lips. Dragging long black nailed fingertips across a bleeding bite with macabre fascination, Ichigo whined softly as the explosive burst of intense pain offered him several moments of clarity. His fingertips were fisting in black haori, a harsh tug yanking the white haired Hollow closer so that their noses were nearly touching and a vast array of white locks spilling all around them in a curtain of snow. Captivating the two of them in a separate world of their own creation, a pink tongue dragged nervously across pink lips as the tickling touch swiftly chased away the instantaneous rage he had felt at playfully purred words.

'W-_what_ are you doing! I—?'

'Che, yer eyes, King. Yer eyes tell me that you don't understand what's goin' on. This is _instinct_, Ichigo. You are intoxicated by my smell, my touch, my power…my soul. You are _mine _now. The only thing that matters to me in the end, is yeh. I told you that I would protect you eternally. I will stay by your side, Ichigo, you just need to believe my words. The two of us, we are infinitely chained and bound by fate. We were born to exist side by side forever. So please don't fight me, Aruji…just fall into the sensations as they come to you. Here, in my arms, nothing but pure pleasure and all-encompassing comfort can be found.' Tipping an orange head into gentle fingers that cupped his left cheek, Ichigo shivered softly when a sharp nail traced the mark that was branded beneath his eye as a burn of harsh emotion seared the backs of his eyelashes. Why now, he asked himself absently. He had waited a lifetime just to hear the sincerity of such eloquent words, to _know_ that there was someone who was willing to look after him just as fiercely as he protected those around him. So truly, what right did he have to deny himself anymore? What he had been searching for since he had been old enough to understand that there was something missing from inside him, had just been found in the least likely of places and most intimate of bonds.

Parting his lips with a shaky sigh, Ichigo balanced himself on his palms with considerable difficulty as he welcomed an intimate entanglement of tongues that was both infinitely sweet and scorching hot with unquenchable desire at the same time. The world was crumbling away from around him, restless fingertips tracing Zangetsu's black horn from base to tip several times as a rumbling purr muffled in his mouth and sly fingers came to rest against the centre of his chest. Ripping through black fabric without remorse, the orange haired teen's cries of protest were abruptly cut off when a forefinger and thumb found a hardened nipple and decided to indulge his body with the yearning pleasure it was simply crying out for. _So_ good, he moaned blissfully in response. The overwhelming heat that had been threatening to consume him since he had stepped into Hueco Mundo, cooling momentarily as he reluctantly drew away from an intimate kiss and dug blunt fingernails into the back of pale neck. Scolding Shiro for making the tears in his shihakushō larger than they already were, he subtly pointed out that when the Sword Master showed up later or he had to return home, he'd rather not do it whilst looking like he'd been ravished. To which, his white haired doppelganger frowned possessively before he reached for the thick golden sash and decorative obijime that was wrapped around the orangette's waist.

'Ya wear too many clothes, King…' Shiro complained, forcing Ichigo to turn his head to the side bashfully as he used the cold press of concrete against a sweaty temple to briefly calm his panting breaths before he was completely overwhelmed again. 'S-shut up, S-Shi! Its regulation and S-Senjumaru…I'd rather not pick a fight with her, s-she'll just dress me like a woman n-next time. And b-besides, you are wearing exactly the same thing, _Zan_getsu!' He protested loudly, swiftly averting golden eyes from an incredulous golden eyed gaze as a sly blue tongue dragged seductively across pale lips and a sprawl of sensual silk fell away from his torso before knowing palms untucked a stifling kosode and splayed it open across a rapidly rising and falling chest. Memorizing a perfectly sculpted form that bowed so sweetly into his touch for later reference, Zangetsu chuckled mirthfully as he pressed a chaste kiss to a flushed cheek and licked the tip of a straight nose just to see his beloved King jerk back in surprise and a darker red blossoming across the bridge of his nose. Lust hazed eyes were simply on fire with burning instinct, searing heatedly into the Hollow's soul with a vibrant display of anger and confusion his orange haired Shinigami counterpart couldn't express as the white haired being rested his forehead against another for several minutes and subtly drew in the haunting scent of tobacco smoke, strawberries, silk, ice, mint, chocolate and warm orange blossom…

'Tsk, tsk…ya talk too much but it's true, I suppose. Shikashi (7*), Ichi, undressing myself is merely a tug of a sash. You on the other hand, is a whole other story. Now, hush and simply enjoy yerself…I'll make sure you forget how to speak soon enough.' And Shiro wasn't lying about that, Ichigo groaning in surprise as pale lips decided to follow the path a forefinger and thumb had previously explored as biting teeth nipped tanned skin and two black nailed fingertips slipped into his mouth to silence him by force. Not quite sure what to do, the orange haired twenty-year-old lapped up the lingering taste of blood that clung to Zangetsu's fingers as those merciless claws had thankfully retracted to their normal appearance. 'Make sure te get them nice an' wet, King…' A husky baritone purred seductively, accentuating softly spoken words by undoing a white hakama sash from thin hips as leisure movements guided silky black material partially down flawlessly tanned thighs and golden eyes eagerly drank in the sight that was spread so provocatively beneath him. Ichigo had propped up his left leg to bring their forms closer together than before and balance his weight more equally. A white haori and black kosode was providing a silky ocean of fabric for him to recline in as half-lidded eyes gazed pleadingly at a mirroring pair that he knew could grant him nothing but infinite waves of pleasure and the satisfaction of all his desires.

He was getting impatient for more however, his chest heaving for lost breath as he rocked backwards and forwards with barely contained need and a slick pink tongue bathed pale digits in as much saliva as possible. Abruptly forced to throw his head back against harsh concrete to stabilize himself when his obedience was rewarded with a sensual palm curling firmly around a pulsing arousal, messy orange locks were descending into clenched eyelids as the first tears of frustration traced coldly down his temple and fingerless-tekkō gloved hands grasped desperately at the silk spread beneath him. It was becoming too much to bear, his senses _so_ sensitized that Ichigo was sure he would come simply from that single touch alone as he accidentally bit an impromptu gag much harder than he intended to. The flood of blood into his mouth was startlingly sweet, dancing hypnotically across his tongue as a quiet hiss of strain was the only thing that betrayed Zangetsu's irritation at his action before a soothing kiss was pressed to the centre of his forehead and the cool metal of a black circlet swiftly grounded the orangette's thoughts without much effort. The drag of a tapering horn had already scored a cut across his left cheek when he had jerked his head to the side in rapture, his back bowing in a sensual arch as not even the stinging pain was able to dissipate the pure ecstasy that was boiling through his blood and the tightening coil of building release that was twisting tighter and tighter in the pit of his stomach.

'Nnngh! Z-Zangetsu…more!' He cried needily, watching the thick string of saliva that connected his lips to pale fingertips intently as it glistened brightly in the artificial sunlight and they were eventually replaced by a heated tongue as slick digits slid sensually down his arching spine and brushed invitingly against a twitching entrance. Slipping against a slippery fluid that was already dripping in sensual rivulets down tanned thighs, a harsh cry became muffled against pale lips as two fingers pressed deeply inside him with considerable resistance and the thigh-length white haired Alpha used a rush of pain to ground his beloved's pleasure before it became too much and consumed him in the pinnacle of his release far too quickly. Causing golden eyes to flicker between light blue and haunting chocolate brown for several seconds, Ichigo felt a flutter of sensations cresting against the edge of his soul as his tongue was coaxed into a warm, wet, mouth and a steady dragging pace of up and down skilfully pleasured his erection from base to sensitive tip. Whatever burst of pain had granted him a moment to breathe and find some coherency, was floating away again as he curled his leg around Shiro's hips and tried to bring their bodies closer together. He wanted more, his heart straining with the climbing rapture as golden eyes snapped open and locked imploringly with his beloved's.

'M-more…onegai (8*)! Zangetsu, please!' A lilting tenor hitched painfully in the back of his throat, sharpened canines worrying the skin of his neck where a bleeding bite was still spilling haunting red across a white clad shoulders as elegant fingertips wound fitfully in long white locks. He couldn't voice his desires anymore, not even the pain mattered as a haze of white invaded the edges of his vision and he curled his arms around strong shoulders as an array of pleading words dripped sensually from the tip of his tongue. When two fingers retracted from inside him, a howl of despair shattered the night air as he mourned the brief fullness they had granted him and the all-encompassing bliss of satisfying his carnal instinct's greatest desire. _So good_, _so good_…he repeated like mantra inside his head. That dragging pace was increasing slightly around his arousal, a single sharp fingernail slipping deeply inside the slit of his erection as it forced lust glazed eyes to snap open in surprise and a deeply pleasured cry reverberated powerfully through the depths of Hueco Mundo. That was—. Oh god, when did those black nails change back to deadly claws? And how could something that should be breaking him apart from inside out _only_ ignite his lust all the more? It was too much, his world was cracking apart but Ichigo stubbornly clamped a hold on his release because he knew Shiro had more to give…more that he wanted desperately.

'Sorry, King…it seems that I've reached the limit of my patience too. I'd have like te play some more but we can explore that more later, remember to breathe, ne?' And that was the warning Ichigo got, a flood of relieved and pained tears dragging coldly down his temples as a scorching hot arousal ripped into him and he only had a brief second to wonder how his Zanpactō had managed to loosen his own hakama without him noticing. The sensations were so intense however, that it felt like Ichigo's very soul was being broken open as time came to a standstill and a howl of rapture became much louder than he thought possible. He couldn't help himself anymore though, Zangetsu wasn't holding back in gifting pleasure and the orange haired doppelganger was straining under the harsh rocking movements that had no patience to wait for him to settle into the considerable stretch that was overwhelming his senses. All that Ichigo could feel was a soul deep connection binding the two of them closer together than ever before, his own hips rocking back and forth in a needy pattern that was chasing up the pinnacle of their intimate coupling towards the ultimate explosion of ecstasy. No more holding back, no more fears, no more regrets…all that laid together in the future was infinite bliss and all-encompassing affection.

A continuous flow of Zangetsu's name was falling evocatively from petal pink lips with every peaking thrust like a prayer, the white haired being reaching deeper and deeper into him as the orangette sunk his teeth into a pale shoulder to counteract the painful heat that was causing scruffy orange locks to stick to the beads of sweat that was gathering on his forehead and cheeks. Out of pure instinct, Ichigo forced a heady amount of reiatsu into the wound as he cried out in both embarrassment and satisfaction when he could no longer keep a lock on his vast pleasure. It was simply too much, it spilled over into his soul with such torrents that when a long tapering black nail was removed the slit of his erection, it sent a shock of pure electricity all the way down to his toes. Coaxing him to arch back in desperate need as black waraji clad feet curled against a silky white haori, several splatters of pearly white was painting his sculpted abdomen as running rivulets of cool sweat failed to ground him against the rush of his release. His entire being becoming suspended between two worlds of life and death, his eyes seeing absolutely nothing as he knew only Shiro's pleasure, protection and love. This was definitely what his instincts had been searching for for a long time, he knew. Golden eyes fluttering one last time to catch several droplets of sweat splattering across his cheeks as Shiro's beautiful eyes, overrun with thousands of emotions he could read and understand intimately, locked with his and a haunting expression crossed attractive features.

'Ichigo.' That was it, a deadly abyss was opening up beneath the two of them as a warm wetness painted deeply inside him and Ichigo reiatsu exploded from deep inside him to encompass the ruins of Las Noches around him. It simply wouldn't stop, flowing like an ocean of blue and black from his soul as it shattering the night and only the loss of consciousness offered him several moments of blissfully satisfied peace…

From now on, Ichigo vowed to his very soul that Shiro Zangetsu would _never_ again be allowed to leave his side.

**...**

'Makin' a promise like that is dangerous, King.' Zangetsu breathed tenderly, lovingly rearranging a black shihakushō into some semblance of order as he leaned back on his palm and brushed sweaty orange bangs away from a pale forehead. 'I'll take ya up on it…I-chi-go…don't expect me te leave now.' He chuckled honestly, watching the perpetual scowl between tangerine brows lessen minutely when he tried to smooth it away with the pad of his thumb. So eternally beautiful and strong, he thought to himself privately. Even when his beloved was caught in unconsciousness and was completely vulnerable to the world if he wasn't materialized by his side. After such an eventful day, Shiro was surprised that Ichigo had not fallen into consciousness earlier in the process of his claim. Resting his palm against the side of the orangette's neck, he allowed a brush of instinctive reiatsu to spill from his soul into his newly claimed Beta's to heal a startling claim before those who would be coming to look for them, noticed the infinite tie that bound together for eternity. All Alphas were possessive, after all, and Zangetsu was no different. _No_ one else would ever be allowed to touch his Aruji or infringe on what was rightfully his, he would tear them to pieces without a single shred of remorse. Allowing for a contented sigh to spill blissfully from pale lips, thigh-length white locks danced lazily in the breeze as he listened intently to the series of sensual purrs that were rising and falling with Ichigo's rested breaths.

It had been several hours since they had been cast down into this dimension, golden eyes blinking at the crescent moon as black nailed fingertips rose to caress a tapering black horn in thought. His true form that he had awoken right after he had been reforged several years ago was quite tedious and different to what it had been before, his King's very existence seeming to have matured into another plane of reality after the Thousand Year Blood War had ended and the Reiou had blessed him as a Royal Guard. Zangetsu however, would never forget the anguish of nearly losing his beloved to death as a result of his clash with the Quincy King. Paying no mind to the heavy horns that were dragging against his temples and the circlet that was settled across his forehead with weighty responsibility, scruffy white bangs danced playfully across pale cheeks as golden eyes were concealed in dark shadow and he reached for the elongated hilt of his blade that was driven into the stone in arms reach of his hands. Sealing it away in a swathe of expensive black silk woven from Ichigo's hair and draping it across his back, a pale palm rose in front of him commandingly as he called out to the Old Man's smaller blade that had been thrown off into the distance earlier. Capturing an indiscernible hilt in his hand when his power willed the lesser half of Ichigo's power towards him, the flying blade was eventually sheathed rightfully by Ichigo's side as he felt a spark of Zangetsu's Ossan's reiatsu stirring at his presence.

'Did ya take a nice long nap, Ossan?' He asked quietly, not expecting an answer to his question because he knew very well that untill _he_ willed it…the other half of Ichigo's power would not stir from the black chains he had been bound with and the shadows of sleep he had been cast into whilst the orange haired Guard was captive to his first instinctual heat. The tables had finally turned it seemed, giving Zangetsu the chance to supress the Quincy for a bit as he leaned down to whisper an affectionate kiss to the top of spiky orange locks. His beloved's scent was smothered all over his clothes, he noted. Sinking deeply into his skin like a proper claim just as he knew his own scent was seared into Ichigo's very soul. In fact, Shiro's entire essence was merging together with Ichigo's reiatsu to bind them not only closer together than before but to forge another loving soul between the two of them. Resting a pale palm on the steady rise and fall of a perfectly sculpted abdomen, a sinister smirk danced playfully across pale lips as a flood of Hollow reiatsu brushed pale skin and the Alpha made sure to balance out the restless power that was swirling in acknowledgement beneath his fingertips. Protecting and bearing young, he chuckled. Ichigo was going to throw of fit when the effects of his heat faded and the orangette learned the true purpose of why his instinct had been awakened in the first place.

However, for now Zangetsu had his newly claimed Beta all to himself. Frowning into the distance when he sensed a familiar reiatsu entering Hueco Mundo through a chōkaimon (9*), the white haired Zanpactō spirit reluctantly pulled himself to his feet as he made sure to make Ichigo comfortable by forming a soft pillow beneath an orange head with a black haori and concealing the King's presence behind a thick barrier of his reiatsu. Leaping onto silvery sands with a burst of sonido, a large black blade appeared in the palm of his hand as he stood several meters in front of the solitary bolder where Ichigo was asleep. It would seem that they were running out of time, black silk trailing behind a vast array of white hair as he unsealed his sword and rested the menacing blade nonchalantly across his shoulder. No one would be able to get closer without his permission, he wouldn't allow them to even blink in the wrong direction as a dark shadow abruptly blurred to a halt in front of him and a spiky brown haired girl stood behind her Master with a sandaled foot pressing against the small of a dark skinned Shinigami's back. Recognizing the man instantly, a deadly smirk danced across pale lips as Zangetsu swung his sword without hesitation and purred in satisfaction at the deep cut he scored across his opponent's cheek and the explosion of oppressive reiatsu that spilled in uncontainable torrents from both his materialized forms.

'Yo, we've been waiting fer ya, Bastard.' He said calmly, wanting nothing more than to wipe that insane smile off the Sword Master's lips as intense eyes studied him intently from behind green sunglasses. 'What a nice way you have of sayin' 'hello', Chan-Ichi's Zan-chan.' Bristling in rage at that nickname, Zangetsu did not even give the older member of the Zero Division a chance to act and defend himself as he pressed a razor sharp tip against a vulnerable neck and increased the pressure of his grip.

'Zanpactō Master or not, asshole, no _one_ says any part of my name except Ichigo. If you so much as utter another word of insult against us I will cut you to pieces right here and be done with ya. I can guarantee you that I am unlike any being you have ever come across before, I have no qualms about cutting down those who stand in my Master's way. Including his allies.' Reluctantly withdrawing his threat when his blade was pushed away with a swift movement, a mirroring smirk danced across dark lips as a dark chuckle cut through the air and steady steps lead the Tōshin forward as he rested a calming hand on the Alpha's shoulder. Brushing aside the touch with a scowl of anger, Shiro swiftly forced the older Shinigami back several steps the moment he tried to advance to where Ichigo was asleep. Eventually tucking his hands in his pockets after realizing Zangetsu wasn't going to let him through, unreadable eyes were observing the white haired Zanpactō spirit up and down with curiosity before a chuckle of mirth echoed playfully through the air. 'Unlike anything I've any being I've come across before? Ya are definitely right 'bout that. Still one of the most beautiful and unique Zanpactō ever forged in my palace, Chan-Ichi's most beloved. _That_ will never change.'

'Ya Bankai form even dried up my ocean, ya were_ so_ hot. Just like a thousand suns, yo. Since you and your Master 'ave been down here for twelve hours 'nd ya seem to 'ave settled yer differences, it's time to return to the Reiōkyū. Gather up yer, Shinigami, and hasten yer step, 'Shiro'. We'll be running through the chōkaimon as quickly as possible.' Ōetsu Nimaiya said calmly, pointing his finger over the white haired being's shoulder where he could just see a flash of orange hair and white silk curled up comfortably in exhausted sleep. '_That_ one's Oyaji has been raggin' through the Palace of Duality for two hours lookin' for his son and his little sisters are missin' their Onii-chan. Ya can 'ave some more fun later, I promise…I just _love_ watchin' the dynamic between you two.' Not quite sure how to respond to that, Zangetsu sealed away his blade and draped it across his back before he made sure to gather up Ichigo's kiseru along with his beloved's slumbering form. Heaven's forbid if that sensual vice was lost, he thought. The King would probably kill him, not to mention that he wouldn't get to see the nobility and elegance it already gifted a beautifully regal form. Not paying any mind to their unwanted onlooker, Shiro whispered loving words in his Beta's ear as the orangette stirred slightly in his arms before falling right back asleep without any disturbance.

'Sleep well, Aruji,' He said promisingly. 'I'll still be here when ya wake.'

* * *

><p>1* - Obijime – Decorative string that goes around the outside of a woman's kimono obi usually to keep it tied. I thought it would suit Ichigo to mix a bit of feminine touch to his shihakusho<br>2* - Raikōhō – Thunder Roar Sear, Hadō 63, the Kido that the Shiba family is most famous for  
>3* - Kekkai – Barrier<br>4* - Kuso – Shit  
>5* - Me o samasei – Open your eyes<br>6* - Kiero – Disappear  
>7* - Shikashi – However<br>8* - Onegai – Please  
>9* - Chōkaimon – World Piercing Gate, used to travel from the Reiōkyū<p>

So there you have it, my Honeys. Thank you much for reading and for all the reviews for part 1, I truly appreciate them. If I can kindly ask for your input on part 2, I'd be eternally grateful to you. I hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any questions, please don't be afraid to ask…I'll answer them to the best of my abilities.

Until my next update,

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


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